Reach: A Study of Relationships
by who is sabrina
Summary: An exploration of different relationships, centered on the simple act of reaching. One for each episode of the marvelous "Race to the Edge". Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD. [Ch 9: Quake, Rattle and Roll. "And then, just as he bounced into the air for the lethal blow, the Quaken experienced the impossible."]
1. Dragon Eye of the Beholder, Part 1

"The eels are pulling the ship down!" Fishlegs cried, horrified, and indeed the ship's deck was beginning to tilt alarmingly. The Vikings stumbled in a futile attempt to regain their balance, but the slope of the deck was quickly sharpening to vertical. They lost the battle with gravity, fell to the deck, and began to slide with terrifying speed.

Snotlout's scrabbling fingers found purchase on a bit of extruding wood, and he grabbed onto it tightly, securely. Relief coursed hotly through his veins as he secured his own safety, but the others, he realized, were not so lucky. They would slide cleanly on the unfortunately-flat surface of the ship's deck, and plummet smoothly into the icy waters below, where the eels were waiting with open jaws. But that was not an option. It was never an option.

All of this ran through Snotlout's mind in just a fraction of a second, everything within him working on overdrive thanks to the adrenaline. And so, it seemed to be immediately after his fingers found purchase that he yelled out confidently, "Fishlegs, grab my foot!".

Yes, they had gone their separate ways of late, each pursuing their own future, finding their place in the new Berk that had arisen out of the ashes of the Red Death. And although they had not been together as often as they once had, it came back like second nature. So Fishlegs reached, and Ruffnut reached, and Tuffnut and Astrid reached, too. Their hands gripped each other's in a long, saving chain, and it was just like it had always been. Looking out for each other. Working as a team. Strong by themselves, but even stronger together. Unstoppable. Unconquerable. Undefeated.

"Oh, you ate a full breakfast," Snotlout groaned as Fishlegs' weight pulled down on him, quickly followed by the weight of the others. "You ate everybody's breakfast." With the combined weight and the pull of the gravity that was working so fiercely against them, Snotlout felt himself slip a little, dangerously close to losing his grip. But as the boat continued to sink slowly but surely towards the icy waters, the weight hanging off of his foot suddenly ceased to be a hindrance. It was a motivator now - a strong one. The weight reminded him most aptly that it was not his own life at stake; he was not the only one in danger. He gripped the wood tighter - a strong, unyielding hold - as he felt the power that comes only with doing something for others, rather than yourself. It was not himself he was saving, it was them. And losing them was not an option. So he held on with all of his strength, the rough wood strangely comforting against his straining fingers. It was tough, but his resolve was tougher. There was no way he was letting go.


	2. Dragon Eye of the Beholder, Part 2

Quite suddenly, Gothi saw it. And she wondered, with a chill, how she had missed it before. The keyhole of the Dragon Eye - that odd, unique shape. She had seen it before. Many times before. She turned away from the sight of it, willing herself to think of other things, as the emotions that were flooding through her began to write themselves upon her aging features. But Hiccup, ever a sharp boy, had noticed.

"Gothi, are you okay?" he asked concernedly. She turned, and there he was, leaning towards her, brows furrowed in concern, hand reaching forward in an obvious desire to help. "What is it?"

She studied him with a frown for a moment, debating, and in the next second, she had decided. She would show him. Of course she would show him. So she stretched her arm out and pointed. Pointed to the scar that matched so precisely the oddly-shaped hole in the maddeningly-mysterious Dragon Eye. She could feel his eyes on it, studying it with the almost unnerving focus and incomparable perception that he had shown even as a boy. Yes, Stoick had complained of Hiccup's short attention span when he was younger, but even then, when something interested Hiccup, it _really_ interested Hiccup. And that intense interest, she knew, was now upon her scar. But knowing he was thinking about it just made it harder for her to _not_ think about it. So in her usual silence and abruptness, she turned and walked away.

"Gothi..." Hiccup called after her quietly, and though she could not see it, she could feel that his hand was outstretched once more. Reaching towards her in curiosity, but also in concern. Definitely concern; she could hear it in his voice. She continued forward, out of sight of the others, and cast her mind around, wanting to think of anything but the memory of that day. Her thoughts landed, quite quickly, upon Hiccup.

Or more accurately, the way his hand had reached after her as she left. The way his concern had been palpable in the very air around them. The way his eyebrows had knit together in quiet worry. And the gentle kindness written on his face. Always, the kindness. It was different, Gothi knew. Very different. Of course, the boy had always been different, in nearly every possible way, and those differences had always proven to be good ones. And this kindness - this genuine caring Hiccup so clearly possessed - well, Gothi had no doubt that this was a good difference, too.

And this kind, caring demeanor was not something just shown to her. Gothi had seen him interact with many of the villagers, and the kindness had not left him once. The way he acted with them, Gothi knew they could feel it too. When Hiccup stooped down to pick up a little girl's fallen stuffed dragon toy, and dusted it off before handing it gently back, Gothi knew the girl could feel it. Her mother could feel it, too. And when a lonely terror landed hopefully on the young viking's shoulder, and he scratched it fondly and let it play with his hair, all the people who happened to be watching him could see it as clear as day. And when the stressed-out viking on a late-night stroll ran into the chief's son, and Hiccup, no matter how exhausted, provided a smile, a listening ear, and some incredibly insightful advice, that viking would hear it in his voice. It was obvious, whatever he did, that Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III cared greatly, powerfully, and genuinely about the people of Berk. It was a mark of his greatness, without a doubt. Hiccup's bottomless supply of love and kindness was evident to anyone - human or dragon - on Berk, and in turn, he had wormed his way into even the hardest of viking hearts. The humans and the dragons all loved him, and cared for him just as genuinely as he cared for them. They would stand behind him to the bitter end, Gothi knew. She smiled a little. That boy had no idea what fierce loyalty he had created.

Yes, young, skinny, un-viking-like Hiccup would be a truly great chief. There was nothing of which she was surer.


	3. Imperfect Harmony

Astrid Hofferson was stuck. Totally and completely stuck. Squirming, wiggling, straining - none of it made any difference to the Deathsong's annoyingly-strong amber. With a frustrated sigh, she took a break from struggling with it, and just laid there, staring up at the empty sky. The sounds of the twins' bickering and Snotlout's complaining floated over to her, and she rolled her eyes. At least Fishlegs was being mercifully silent. Astrid continued to stare at the only patch of sky that she could see in her confined position, and her mind began to wander. Being stuck in the Deathsong's amber was maddening. But better her than Hiccup.

 _Huh_ , she thought suddenly, a contemplative frown appearing on her smooth features. When had she started thinking that?

"It's okay, Meatlug," Fishlegs comforted abruptly, his voice intruding on Astrid's pondering. The Gronckle whined quietly in response, and Astrid remembered, quite suddenly and inexplicably, her first encounter with the dragon. Dragon training, all those years ago.

 _"So, I guess it's just you and me, huh?" Hiccup had asked, nervously, as they stood side by side before the Gronckle. It was weird to think that that was Meatlug. But just seconds after the words left Hiccup's lips, Meatlug had fired at them, and Astrid, with her warrior's reflexes, had responded smoothly and efficiently._

 _"Nope," she told Hiccup. "Just you." And without a second thought, she rolled easily out of Meatlug's line of fire. Hiccup would take the fire, she knew. But better him than her. She was winning this thing._

It was odd, really, how immensely things had changed.

 _"Hiccup!" Astrid cried out. Her keen eyes had followed the Deathsong's movements with careful tracking, and she had seen what Hiccup - who was struggling to get Toothless free - had not. "It's coming for you!" she yelled. And even as the words left her lips, she was moving - moving without even giving conscious thought to what her body was doing. On what seemed like instinct, she ran. Ran towards Hiccup with her arms out, reaching wildly for him, and hoping fervently that she was fast enough._

 _As always, her finely-tuned battle skills served her well, and she reached him just in time. Arms splayed firmly out in front of her, she shoved him purposefully out of the way. Before he hit the ground, the amber was around her, uncomfortably hot and beginning to cool and harden with astonishing rapidity._

 _"Astrid!" she heard Hiccup cry. But then the Deathsong roared its haunting, musical roar, and Hiccup was smart enough to leave. She struggled against the amber as she heard his retreating footsteps, and despite the annoyance at her very, very stuck position, something like relief was running coolly through her veins. Better her than Hiccup._

Yes, it was odd, Astrid confirmed to herself, tuning out the sounds of Ruffnut's threats of bodily harm. Between then and now, her perspective had changed more than she ever thought it could. Her perspective on dragons, her perspective on life, and... her perspective on Hiccup. In what seemed so short a time, he had suddenly become... well, important. No longer was he someone to take the fire. Someone to be better than, someone to scoff at. No, things were different now. She was not sure exactly how it had happened, or when, but suddenly he was someone to protect. Someone to watch out for, someone to learn from, someone to respect. Astrid grinned to herself, despite their current predicament. It was amazing to think how greatly things had changed.

"Where's Hiccup?" Snotlout yelled out suddenly, loud enough to derail Astrid's train of thought. "I knew he'd leave us! I have to pee," he whined.

"He didn't leave us," Astrid told him calmly, rolling her eyes at his immaturity. Yes, it was odd how much things had changed. But some things didn't change at all.


	4. When Darkness Falls

"They're joining back up around the white one!" Ruffnut noted as they stared, transfixed, at the recently-discovered dragons that had been inhabiting their chosen island.

"He must be the leader!" Hiccup added, watching as the innumerable little dragons flocked together, joining seamlessly into one giant form. "This is amazing," he murmured. But then, out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup saw movement. Ruff and Tuff were flying Barf and Belch straight into the mass of little dragons.

"Guys, what are you doing?" he admonished, but the twins had already put their plan in motion. As Hiccup looked on, they each held one end of a net, reaching out in perfect synchronism. And in one fluid movement, the white dragon was captured. The black dragons dispersed in an uncoordinated cloud, and Barf and Belch turned back to the direction of camp.

"Bam," Tuffnut announced smugly. "Problem solved. All right; let's head home." And so saying, he and his sister led the way back to camp, streaking off into the night, triumphant and enthused. Hiccup stayed behind a moment longer, watching the remaining dragons scatter, the unfortunately-familiar sense of unease burrowing itself in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't know about you, bud," he muttered darkly to Toothless, "but I've got a bad feeling about this." And with one last glance at the retreating dragons, the pair turned and sped towards home. Hiccup sighed, sure that their capture of the dragons' leader would have some unintended consequences. But there was no use worrying about it now; if anything _did_ happen, they would deal with it when it came up. Until then, there was no point being bothered with it.

Catching up to the twins, Hiccup watched the two of them warily as they cheered and celebrated, the white dragon still caught in the net held between them. Hiccup thought back to the dragon's capture, and realized, quite suddenly, that there was something very rare about that moment. It was surprising - _very_ surprising - but Hiccup had seen it nonetheless. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, cooperating.

With all their arguing and bickering and bantering - not to mention their frequent physical attacks on each other - it was hard to imagine the two of them ever getting along at all. Tuff directed their dragon one way, while Ruff directed it the opposite way. Ruff wanted their huts painted orange, while Tuff demanded only green. And if Tuff wanted to go first in a dragon training exercise, Ruffnut argued vehemently to go last. Hiccup couldn't even count the number of times he had thrown himself exasperatedly in between the two, as they raised axe, mace, sword, anything in a desperate bid for bodily harm.

But this disagreement and discord that the twins so often displayed was not what Hiccup had seen just moments ago. In a crazy twist of circumstance, Hiccup had seen the other side of their relationship - the well-hidden, oft-unobserved, and _completely_ unexpected side. Charging into the group of unfamiliar dragons, the twins had lifted their net unthinkingly, instinctively. They reached out as one person, rather than two, and snatched the lone white dragon out of the air with startling smoothness. They had moved simultaneously, with unspoken agreement, and they had operated in perfect harmony. It was astonishing (and eye-opening) to witness.

Barf and Belch dived suddenly, aiming for their newly-chosen campsite, and the twins cheered once more, banging their heads together in their own special way of celebrating. It was strange, Hiccup noted, but the twins _did_ have an odd sort of unity. Like they operated on their own weird wavelength, unfathomable to the other dragon riders. Hiccup hadn't really noticed or paid much attention to it before, but now it was exceedingly clear. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were simply in tune with each other. Remarkably so.

Smiling quietly in the midst of his little epiphany, Hiccup gave Toothless a gentle pat, and like that, they descended, landing smoothly and soundlessly on the ground below. Sliding off the saddle in the same beat, Hiccup ran over to join the others, who were approaching the twins curiously, eager for answers. Hiccup fell into step with Ruffnut and Tuffnut just as the latter shoved the former away, sending her reeling into Hiccup, who stumbled predictably.

"I told you," Tuffnut growled, " _I_ caught him!"

"No!" Ruff bit back, equally irate. "It was definitely _me_!" And then she moved - the quick, easy movement Hiccup had come to differentiate as the one that meant only one thing: weapons. With a long-suffering sigh, Hiccup grabbed her arm before she could reach for whatever weapon was hidden safely on her person, and then headed over to Tuff, sending him a meaningful look of warning.

"No weapons, guys, please," Hiccup ordered exasperatedly, and then he pushed them together so they were walking side by side once more. "I'm pretty sure you guys _both_ caught the dragon." Yes, the twins did have an odd sort of harmony - when they wanted to. But Hiccup figured he would still be playing mediator for a _long_ time to come.


	5. Big Man on Berk

"Stop, dragon! I, Thor Bonecrusher, _command_ you to stop!" With a wild roar, Thor Bonecrusher strengthened his grip on the scauldron's tail, and then began to climb. But his movements on the dragon's back did nothing, and the agitated scauldron, undaunted, continued to chase the fleeing Gronckle. Thor Bonecrusher stood up on the scauldron's back, watched to see what its next move would be, and saw it quickly close the distance between itself and the Gronckle - the oddly-familiar Gronckle.

"No!" he shouted suddenly, a note of fear creeping, unbidden, into his voice. He wasn't sure just what he was afraid of - he could have sworn that he had never been afraid of anything. A strange but unshakeable sense of confusion settled heavily upon him then, and in an inexplicable haze, he seemed to forget himself. He forgot who he was - what he was called, what he was like, what he stood for, and what he fell for. His world was a swirling mass of conflicting thoughts, ideas, dreams, talents, and memories. A fog seemed to have settled permanently in his brain, and for a moment, he was simply lost.

And then he saw, with unexpected clarity, the scene before him. The Gronckle looked back, met eyes with him, radiating utter terror. And the scauldron below him took careful aim, expanding its cheeks with boiling hot water that some part of his brain reminded him could take the scales off a Screaming Death. The Gronckle turned around and flew frantically, but the scauldron was closing the distance with startling rapidity. The scauldron prepared to fire, and then terror erupted in Fishlegs' mind.

"No!" he screamed, one hand reaching forward ineffectually, his eyes widening and his voice nearly cracking. Every pore of his body screamed fear, and his brain seemed to be incapable of thinking anything other than _Meatlug_. Horror claimed his every sensation, but it was like a fog had been lifted. Everything clicked into place; the world was right again - _he_ was right again. Confusion about the past twenty-four hours threatened to distract him, but whatever had happened before did not matter in this moment. Right now, the only thing that mattered was his dragon.

"Not my Meatlug!" Fishlegs cried. "You leave my dragon alone!" And with that, he ran without hesitation straight up the scauldron's neck, and leapt cleanly off of its head, onto his own dragon. His own wonderful Meatlug. And as he slipped into his spot on her back, his hands feeling the comforting texture of her immediately-recognizable scales, the fear began to seep away. There was no terror now - no confusion or uncertainty. There in the air, Meatlug beneath him, and the infinite skies around them, Fishlegs felt at home.

Skillfully, Fishlegs guided Meatlug away from the scauldron, out of the larger dragon's line of fire, and then the others swooped in. A net held between Stormfly and Barf and Belch effectively trapped the scauldron, and the water dragon curled in on itself, rendered harmless - at least for the time being. Hiccup and Toothless joined the group as well, Hiccup looking extremely relieved.

"That was a little too close," he commented warily, eyeing the momentarily-docile scauldron.

"Speak for yourself!" Tuffnut piped up, exchanging enthusiastic glances with his sister. "That was freakin' awesome!" And then, accompanied by Astrid and Stormfly, they turned and flew off in the direction of Berk. Fishlegs watched them go, unhurried to return, and instead took the quiet moment to sigh contentedly, leaning over to embrace his delighted dragon.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, girl," he murmured to her, hugging her with all of his considerable strength. "I don't know what happened to me; I just wasn't myself." But Meatlug, apparently, had no need of his puzzled explanations; she was only glad to have her rider back once more. She wriggled in the air, grumbling happily, and then licked him kindly.

"Oh, I missed you!" Fishlegs told her, equally elated. But he was still a little confused about the day's earlier events. He seemed to have some memory gaps that he hoped the others would be able to fill. "How did I-?" he wondered, but he was cut off as Hiccup and Toothless appeared suddenly to his right, melting out of the storm clouds with a stealthiness that Fishlegs had nearly become accustomed to.

"Long story," Hiccup informed Fishlegs, in answer to his unfinished query. "I'll explain later," he promised, and with that, he and Toothless streaked swiftly towards Berk, storm clouds left swirling in their wake. Patting Meatlug gently once more, Fishlegs urged her forward, and together the pair followed the others back - at their own, leisurely pace. In a minute, the storm clouds broke, giving way to healing sunlight. Smiling, Fishlegs leaned all the way forward and laid down atop Meatlug, taking in the sun, the sky, the sea, and the familiar sound of Meatlug's flapping wings. Berk spread out into view before them, and Fishlegs sighed happily. It felt _so_ good to be home.


	6. Gone Gustav Gone

"Dagur, you hand over the Dragon Eye," Hiccup ordered, and Gustav was surprised by the steadiness of his tone. Hiccup's anger and annoyance was evident in his voice, just as Gustav would have imagined. But what came as a surprise was the calm - the control, the collectedness. The younger viking, watching Dagur closely, saw him grin malevolently.

"I don't think so," he sang, waving the Dragon Eye tauntingly.

"I'm not asking," Hiccup replied flatly. Immediately, an odd sort of sound filled the air, a violet light began to glow, and before Gustav knew what was coming, it had happened. In a blast of blue-white light and searing heat, the ground before him fell away into nothingness, the yawning abyss just inches from Dagur's boots. Gustav flinched backwards, horrified, and watched as the smoke cleared to reveal Dagur's smiling face.

"Ooh," he commented, casually. "It's a long way down, isn't it?" he remarked, as Toothless fired another blast near his feet. He jumped out of the way again as Hiccup spoke.

"Dagur, you've got nowhere to go," Hiccup said, his words punctuated by another blast from his dragon, widening the gaping hole in the ground. Dagur again jumped back but remained unconcerned. "It's over," Hiccup pronounced.

"It's over?" Dagur echoed, and Gustav was astonished to see his grin, his casual attitude that bordered so closely on playfulness. "Really?" he questioned. Gustav only had time to think that Dagur really was deranged, before- "Whoops." The Dragon Eye fell from his grip, straight down into the deep chasm before him.

"Oh no!" Gustav cried, and without thinking, he jumped.

"Gustav!" he heard Hiccup shout frantically, and Dagur's insane laugh echoed ominously from above. But Gustav continued to fall through the air, steadily approaching the Dragon Eye, thinking only that if the thing was lost, it would be only his fault.

"Come here," he muttered, reaching out for the strange object that seemed to hold such importance. A second later, a longer reach, and then his hand closed around the Dragon Eye.

"Got it!" Gustav celebrated, doing a triumphant little summersault in midair. But his joy evaporated as he realized he was still falling steadily, toward what would no doubt be a very horrific end. Turning around, he clutched the Dragon Eye tightly, and looked to see a large black shape getting steadily closer.

"Hiccup!" Gustav called, reaching now for help. If his voice betrayed his fear, he didn't care at the moment. The wind rippled his hair and gravity pulled him relentlessly downward, but in a second, Hiccup was there, slender arm reaching out. Hiccup's hand wrapped around Gustav's arm in a surprisingly-strong grip, and then the boy was suddenly atop Toothless, safe and sound once more.

"We got you, Gustav," Hiccup told him reassuringly, and Gustav couldn't stop the little sigh of relief that escaped him then. "Let's get out of here," Hiccup said, and immediately, they began to rise, flying swiftly to the opening above. The light filtered down to them, the opening loomed closer, and Gustav felt his racing heart begin to slow to a normal pace. He loosened his vice-like grip on Hiccup, relaxing.

 _Crack._

Toothless roared in alarm, Hiccup tensed, and then- _wham_. A large bit of rock had fallen from the ceiling, and it struck the three of them with incredible force. They separated, and Gustav began to hurtle down an antechamber, Hiccup and Toothless blocked from view. He heard Hiccup scream as they plummeted, but his own voice seemed to have been stolen by the unexpected free-fall.

Then, Hiccup's screams ceased, and he called out instead, "Toothless!" The dragon in question roared fearfully in response, and the primal sound seemed to contain all of the horror Gustav himself was feeling. _Was this how he would die?_ he wondered wildly. _Alone in pitch darkness and stinging cold? Would he die instantly, or was he doomed to suffer a prolonged ordeal, injured and broken at the end of a bottomless pit?_

"Don't worry, bud!" Hiccup's voice floated over to Gustav from behind a wall of rock, and though his platitudes were directed at Toothless, Gustav felt marginally less fearful. "Hang on, bud!" Hiccup called again, his shouts mingled with Toothless' agitated roars. And then, silence. What had happened?

Swallowing, Gustav screwed his eyes shut, fearing the worst. He felt himself continue to plummet, felt the hopelessness and terror sweep over him like ocean waves.

"I'm going to have to come up with something in case that happens to us again." Hiccup's voice cut across the emptiness, loud and clear, but even better - casual and perfectly untroubled. Hope ignited like fire within Gustav, and he suddenly found his voice again.

"Aaaaaah!" he screamed, alerting the others to his presence, just as the rock wall that had separated them before suddenly ceased to exist. Toothless and Hiccup turned, streaking for him, but before they reached him, Gustav had stopped falling. A large, warm something had caught him first, and Gustav felt familiar scales beneath his shaking fingers.

"Fanghook! Yeah!" he cheered happily, his voice a couple octaves higher in relief. Another hole in the ground lay close by, and Fanghook and Toothless flew toward it as one, seeking safety from the falling rocks. "Thanks, boy," Gustav murmured to Fanghook. In seconds, they ducked through the other hole, landing safely on solid ground, just behind Hiccup and Toothless. Large boulders and chunks of rock sealed the opening right behind them, but relief coursed fiercely through Gustav all the same. They were safe - for now, at least.

The first words out of Hiccup's mouth were: "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Gustav responded immediately, and then the words that had been tearing him apart all day suddenly came tumbling out. "Hiccup, I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Gustav," Hiccup apologized, and Gustav could tell that he meant it. "You're still irresponsible, immature, and reckless," Hiccup cautioned, not unkindly. "But the way you handled yourself with Dagur, maybe you _do_ have what it takes to be a dragon rider... _someday_ ," he added pointedly.

"Someday?" Gustav repeated. A small part of him was offended, but the larger part was just grateful to be alive, grateful that things had turned out as well as they had. He smiled, for once agreeable and submissive. "I will take someday!" he rejoiced. A low rumbling echoed from overhead, and bits of rock rained down on them. Fanghook shifted uneasily beneath him, and Gustav himself looked around nervously.

"What do you say you and me find a way out of here?" Hiccup asked kindly, and Gustav hurried forward, not needing to be told twice. Being trapped miles beneath a frighteningly-unstable cavern was _not_ his idea of fun. His insides squirmed uncomfortably as he thought of falling rock, and so he set his mind instead on "someday".

Looking around, he watched as Hiccup and Toothless caught up with them. Toothless was sniffing around the walls, and Hiccup's calculating eyes were carefully searching every nook and cranny. But his posture was relaxed, his features smooth, his demeanor oddly comfortable. Gustav frowned to himself; why couldn't _he_ be that calm?

Fanghook continued to search for an opening, and Gustav let his mind wander, thinking back through his crazy day. He had been so proud of himself for his clever plan, acting like he had sided with Dagur, then leading him into the precarious caves with the promise of a treasure that didn't really exist.

 _"That's right, Hiccup!" Gustav had called across the deck of Dagur's ship, backing up Dagur's claims that he would lead him to treasure. "We have the Dragon Eye and Fanghook's fire, and you know what that means!" he shouted meaningfully, carefully emphasizing certain words. Hiccup was smart; he would understand. "Untold treasure awaits," Gustav grinned smugly._

He took pride that he had played Dagur so well, so flawlessly. If he could do that, why couldn't he be a dragon rider _now_? Wasn't he good enough already? Gustav looked back to Hiccup again, who still remained supremely nonchalant, and frowned again. Yes, he had been good, but in hindsight, Hiccup had been better.

 _As Gustav continued to grin smugly at Hiccup, he was slightly disconcerted to see that no flash of recognition or comprehension had shown in the other viking's eyes. And yet... he_ had _to have understood. But Hiccup only continued to glare for several moments, before stalking over to Toothless' side angrily._

 _"You are going to regret this," he warned darkly. And if Dagur had had any doubts about Gustav's loyalty before, they were erased at the hostility in Hiccup's tone._

 _"I don't think so, Hiccup," Gustav replied defiantly, crossing his arms. Hiccup said nothing, but slid easily onto the saddle, and then rocketed away._

Yes, Hiccup had played the part so well that even Gustav had begun to doubt. Maybe Gustav did have room for improvement. Seeing the subtle difference in the quality of their deception, Gustav began to notice other differences between himself and Hiccup. The fear he had felt, and the calmness Hiccup seemed to always exude. The recklessness Gustav admittedly possessed, and the careful calculation of Hiccup. And when Gustav had fell, he called to Hiccup for help. But Hiccup had called for Toothless. Fanghook saving Gustav had been a pleasant surprise, but Hiccup and Toothless seemed never to be surprised by each other. Like they could read each other's minds. Like they were one being, instead of two.

But Gustav had never fallen freely through the ground before. He hadn't deceived a truly dangerous adversary before. Nor had he and his dragon ever faced such real danger. These had all been firsts for him - for them. But Hiccup, he knew, must have done all these things many times.

Gustav glanced once more at the other viking, and he realized, quite suddenly, how much _older_ Hiccup was. Not so much in years, but in miles. In skies flown. In battles fought. In injuries and threats and deception and disaster. And as much as Gustav hated to admit it, Hiccup was probably right. He _wasn't_ ready, not yet. But if being ready meant facing injury and death, enduring pain and taking losses, and facing terror and trouble and tragedy... Then, maybe - just maybe - he really was okay with "someday".


	7. Reign of Fireworms

"Hey!" Tuffnut snapped suddenly, seeing Snotlout vault himself onto Hookfang's back. "Where are _you_ going, subject?" he asked haughtily.

"Ha!" Snotlout scoffed. "You may be in charge of this island, but you're not in charge of me."

"Ah, ah!" Tuffnut warned, advancing slightly. "Respect the crown," he admonished, gesturing angrily to the helmet atop his head. "Don't make us get ugly." The threat in his tone was not by any means veiled, but Snotlout was not by any means impressed.

"That ship sailed a _long_ time ago," he called back, grinning smugly. Ruffnut couldn't help it; she saw the opportunity, and had to take it.

"Ugly!" she repeated in an obnoxious shout, punching her brother on the arm, features alight with laughter. But Tuffnut only looked more annoyed. He cast her a quick glare, rubbing his arm where she had hit him, and then turned his anger on Snotlout once more.

"Clearly, we'll need a _dungeon_ ," he intoned aggressively. Ruff was too busy grinning evilly at Snotlout to notice right away, but Tuff's hands had balled into fists. He advanced toward Snotlout menacingly, glowering, but before he had taken two steps, Hiccup was there.

"Okaaaay!" he interrupted pointedly, swiftly moving into position between Tuffnut and Snotlout. One hand was lightly holding Tuff back, the other stretched out in Snotlout's direction. "Let's all just take a breath and _calm down_ ," he reasoned. The last two words were addressed specifically to Tuffnut, and as Hiccup spoke, he actually shoved Tuffnut back a little bit. Ruffnut, noticing the movement, looked over, surprised. Had Hiccup really just forcibly _moved_ her brother? Knowing her twin, there was no way he would take that lying down, not from anybody. She watched him carefully, waiting for him to shove Hiccup back, or start yelling even louder than before. But, to Ruff's utter amazement, he did none of those things.

His hands were still balled in fists at his sides, his features were still marred with annoyance and displeasure, and yet... he was standing perfectly still. His glaring eyes were fixed on Hiccup as he spoke about getting the claim stone authenticated, but Ruffnut recognized that her brother was simply glaring because he was upset; he wasn't mad at Hiccup. In fact, he seemed to be... Was he _listening to him?_ All previous experience with her brother would speak to the contrary, but Ruff could not deny what she had seen. Hiccup hadn't shoved Tuffnut roughly or antagonistically or anything, but still he had pushed him a step or so backwards, and Tuffnut had _stayed there_.

As much as Tuffnut complained about Hiccup being a "tyrant", and as much as he had proudly proclaimed his defiance in the face of authority, Tuffnut's action (or rather, lack thereof) had proved what he would never, _ever_ admit: Tuffnut Thorston _respected_ Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

As the group dispersed, and Hiccup went off to send a message to Berk about the claim stone, Ruff watched her brother appraisingly. He had cooled off now, and had gone back to admiring their "namey rock". He grinned hugely at it, completely unaware of his sister's startling epiphany. Ruff wondered if he even knew what she had only just realized. If she told him that he respected Hiccup, would he himself be surprised? Oh, sure, he would deny it immediately, with lots of scoffing and apparent indignation. But she knew that inwardly, he would question it, and would soon realize that she was right. And he _would_ be surprised; Ruffnut would bet her helmet on it. Respecting Hiccup was something like being able to reach the items on the highest shelf in your home. The change happens so slowly that you never notice it, until suddenly you do, and you wonder how you ever missed it before. It's a bit startling, realizing that you've grown, but pulling that mug or bowl or shield right off the shelf just feels _normal_.

Respecting Hiccup's authority (to some extent), paying attention to him (again, to some extent), and acknowledging him as... well, as a leader - why did it all seem so _natural_? Had they in fact grown? Not in height, but in maturity?

The excited squawking of a chicken brought Ruffnut out of her thoughts, and she watched as Tuffnut turned and scooped up his chicken eagerly.

"Chicken!" he exclaimed. "You've come to see our Namey Rock!"

 _Maturity, indeed._ Ruffnut grinned to herself. She must've eaten something funny that morning.


	8. Crushing It

"If I used them on you, you wouldn't forget how deadly they were!" Stoick yelled. And then he stormed off, muttering angrily. Bewildered and uncertain, Hiccup watched his father retreat, pace quickened by irritation, until he had nearly vanished from view. Figuring it was safe, Hiccup ducked out from behind the catapult.

"Hiccup!" The shout startled Hiccup, who whirled around to find Sven approaching. But this yelling was altogether different from Stoick's. While the chief's tone had been clipped and harsh, there was no denying the palpable relief that was coming off of Sven in waves. Indeed, Sven was approaching Hiccup with a hand reached out, wordlessly asking for Hiccup's help with his temperamental father. "Thank Thor you're here!" Sven continued animatedly. "You've got to help us! Your father has become unbearable!"

"Well, to be fair, Sven, you did have the weapons out of order," Hiccup interjected reasonably.

"That's because yesterday he told me to arrange them by length!" Sven defended immediately. "The day before, it was by pointiness! And the day before that, it was by name!" With every word, Sven was becoming more and more agitated, and it was painfully obvious to Hiccup that his father's temper had put all of Berk on edge. "Did you know he gave each weapon its own nickname?"

"Well, I have to admit, that is _really_ weird." Hiccup conceded, feeling a sudden stab of pity for the Berkians stuck with a volatile and headstrong chief. "Uh, all right, I'll go talk to him," Hiccup placated, starting towards the direction his father had gone. Toothless bounded several paces ahead of him as Sven's exasperated muttering tapered off into silence.

"Oh, wait!" Sven called. Hiccup stopped, and turned to find Sven approaching him yet again, arm stretched out in an attempt to stay the younger viking. Hiccup stood obediently still, waiting patiently as Sven caught up to him.

"Has he done something else?" Hiccup asked, unable to keep the note of weariness out of his voice. Surely his father had done many irritating things; even _Gobber_ had sailed all the way to Dragon's Edge to escape him.

"Ah, no," Sven said kindly, although it was an obvious lie. "I just wanted to say thank you," the older viking told him, smiling. "We really appreciate you coming all the way here to help out." His words were drenched in deep, honest gratitude, and Hiccup blinked back at him, surprised. Sven accompanied his words with an affectionate gesture, reaching out and placing a warm hand atop Hiccup's shoulder. And in that precise moment, the memory hit him like a slap in the face.

 _Darkness, and fire. The roars and rumbles of antagonistic dragons, competing against the shouted orders and battle cries of the vikings. Smoke in the air. Blood on the ground. Metal and scales and leather and teeth in every direction. And death._

 _Narrowly dodging a stray blast of dragon fire, Hiccup continued scampering through the lethal obstacle course the village had become. His thin frame, even smaller back then, allowed him to duck out of harm's way with surprising success._

 _"Hey!" a passing viking shouted at him, the order "get inside!" left unsaid. Hiccup ignored this; the entire village was out here fighting for their home, and didn't he have the right to do the same? A loud_ crack _reached Hiccup's ears, and he looked up for the source of the noise, startled. The nearest watch tower was tilting precariously, leaning ominously in Hiccup's precise direction. The young boy backtracked quickly - too quickly. He fumbled over his own two feet, dropping towards the ground right in the path of the now-collapsing tower. He had only a moment to feel truly frightened, and then he was in the air. Someone had gripped his shirt from behind and lifted him easily out of the way at the last second._

 _The watch tower slammed into the hard earth, the resulting rumble sounding as menacing as the fiercest dragon. A cloud of dirt and dust erupted around it, thickening the air. Hiccup's unknown savior pulled him further back, into cleaner air, and then shoved him under the cover of a nearby building, a strong, restraining hand on his shoulder. Blinking away the dust, the viking boy looked up to see Silent Sven's stern expression, features hardened in annoyance and exasperation._

The very same hand rested on Hiccup's shoulder now - the same weight, the same pressure. But there was no animosity in Sven's face now, no hint of anger or displeasure at all. His light eyes were not silently scolding, but were glinting with appreciation. The smile that adorned his features was slowly beginning to slip off though, replaced with growing curiosity and concern.

 _Hiccup could still see the disapproving face glowering down at him. Another viking, who had seen the whole thing, appeared beside Sven, with an equally unpleasant scowl._

 _"Hiccup!" the viking berated, teeth clenched in frustration._

"Hiccup!" Sven called softly, trying to regain the dragon rider's attention.

 _"Are you all right?" the nameless viking snapped. There was no kindness at all in his voice; this was pure business. He was only asking because Hiccup happened to be the chief's son, and any disregard of his wellbeing was sure to draw Stoick's ire._

"Are you all right?" Sven asked, surprisingly gently. _This_ was genuine concern. Some part of Hiccup's bombarded mind recognized that Sven was becoming increasingly worried, and was waiting for an answer. But the normally sharp-witted viking could hardly string two words together under the staggering weight of his unanticipated epiphany. Hiccup had always known, logically speaking, that his relationship with the people of Berk was different now - that it _had been_ different, from the moment the dragon riders flew into battle with a rogue plan to take down the Red Death. But until this very moment, he hadn't noticed the extent to which things had changed.

The villagers no longer looked down on him, nor did they exude annoyance and exasperation. Hiccup was no longer the troublesome nuisance that had to be kept an eye on. Now, he was someone to come to. The people of Berk approached him eagerly, sought out his help and advice. They acknowledged him, listened to him, _respected_ him.

"Hiccup, I asked if you're feeling all right." The viking in question heard Sven's words as if from a great distance. It took a moment before they registered, and in the next instant, Hiccup remembered to respond.

"Yeah," he muttered distractedly, still lost in the swirl of past and present.

"Are you sure?" The follow-up question that others had never bothered with before brought Hiccup firmly back to the present. Sven's brows were drawn together, his light green eyes narrowed slightly in doubt. As Hiccup watched, Sven's suspicious gaze flicked up and down the length of Hiccup's slender form, obviously checking for evidence of injury or illness. Feeling the blood rush to his face, Hiccup shifted awkwardly under the unusual scrutiny, half embarrassed at the attention, and half touched by the show of concern.

"I just got a bit lost in thought. I'm fine, Sven," he reassured the older viking, throwing in a grin for good measure. "Great, actually," he amended. The doubt on Sven's features melted away until he was left smiling pleasantly.

"Good," he said. A quiet, impatient rumble came from behind Hiccup, and Toothless moved forward until he had reached his rider's side.

"Hey, bud," Hiccup laughed. The night fury nudged him in response, shoving the young viking pointedly in the direction Stoick had gone. "Okay, okay, we're going," Hiccup relented, heading off with his dragon and waving goodbye to Sven.

"Good to see you, Hiccup," Sven nodded, and Hiccup could tell that he meant it.

"You, too, Sven," Hiccup grinned. "You, too."


	9. Quake, Rattle and Roll

The Catastrophic Quaken paused mid-roll, taking account of the intruders. The other dragons and humans were in the air, keeping a tolerable distance, but the human and the Gronckle on the ground still posed a threat. And they showed no signs of backing off. The human stood there defiantly, its hands stretched out before it in a confrontational manner, as if commanding the Quaken to stop. But the Quaken refused to be chased off its own island home; the Quaken would never back down. So he aimed for the human, and rolled.

And then, just as he bounced into the air for the lethal blow, the Quaken experienced the impossible. The fact that the human had not backed down was not surprising. What was surprising was the fact that the Gronckle had not backed down either. In fact, it had jumped in front of the human, a clear act of protection. An act of love.

The Quaken stopped in its tracks, dirt and dust swirling into the air from his impact with the ground, but this was nothing. The Quaken's entire world was crumbling. The world in which loneliness and terror reigned - the world in which every dragon fought only for himself - was falling apart before his very eyes. Here was a little Gronckle that proved him otherwise, her message plain. _If you want to get to him, you go through me first._

The Quaken, rattled by this strange new idea of fierce love and kindness, watched carefully. The human lifted his head, looking both relieved and surprised. His eyes landed on the Gronckle in front of him, and the Quaken suddenly saw it there, too. Love. Affection. Gratitude. The Quaken's fear and anger melted away in the face of it, and the Gronckle, sensing this, immediately became friendly. The Quaken reciprocated, and like that, the atmosphere changed. There was no more need for violence, for hatred, for terror. The Gronckle and her human had taught him that. There was no room for fear in love.


End file.
